Title: An Angel’s Wrath
Author: xavenging_angelx
Rating: Rated for violence, and language (PG-13 to R)
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Castiel, Zachariah, Raphael
Disclaimer: I call Castiel mine, but sadly he isn't. And neither is Zachariah, and neither are the Winchester brothers. This version of Raphael is mine, and the upcoming version of Lucifer is all mine too
Summary: Castiel defies prophecy in the most severe of ways, and is brutally punished.
Banner by Kristee, thanks to her awesome artwork ^_^
Better stand tall when they're calling you out
Don't bend, don't break, baby, don't back down
“It’s My Life” – Bon Jovi
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Chapter 1
Zachariah could not believe it. Castiel was alive. He had survived Raphael’s onslaught. How was that even possible? He had watched the archangel tear him to pieces, starting with his Grace. But it had all been a lie, an optical illusion put on by the rogue angel to fake his death. Why they had missed the fact that it was a staged death was beyond him, but he was bound to find this out in addition everything else he had questions for. He laid eyes on Castiel, who had gone from a headstrong captive to a hostage on his knees, a bleeding, beaten mess; barely keeping a grip on his consciousness. At times he even begged for the pain, torture and beatings to stop, but the pleas fell on deaf ears and were worsened each time. They would heighten his sense of pain until he screamed in agony. But even the abuse, as violent and vicious as it was, had yielded no answers; not one. Each time he fell unconscious, he was brutally disciplined for not keeping a grip on a conscious state through out his interrogation.
Tearing his eyes from the bloody mess in front of him, Zachariah shut out the screams as he focused on the memory of when they had captured Castiel. Each time he recalled it, the thought sent vibes of wrath through him because of Castiel’s daring, sickening disobedience.
They had found Castiel by complete accident. It was thought that he was dead, and because of that fact, they had moved their focus to another goal: finding Dean Winchester. Without his angelic guide, the man would surely be lost, unable to continue on his path of rebellion, not knowing what to do next. Zachariah still recalled the surprise that jolted through him when he saw Castiel standing next to Dean Winchester. He recalled that it could not have been possible, that he had been hallucinating. But celestial beings don’t hallucinate. Their minds don’t shatter like a human being’s is capable of. They never lose touch with reality, not unless it is forced upon them by a demonic substance or an injury.
The split second Castiel had sensed their presence, he had taken Dean Winchester and sent him to an unknown location. Raphael had tried to stop the transport but was too late. Dean Winchester was gone, along with his brother Sam.
Once they realized that days of tracking down the Winchesters had all been torn down by Castiel, the traitor, the soon-to-be-fallen, the rebel, they fell on him with wrath. At first, it had been questions. When Castiel refused to answer any of them, they took him to another location. The questions continued, but they still yielded no answers from the angel. They threatened him with falling, with losing his Grace, with killing him, and even throwing him in Hell, but Castiel remained adamant, stating that he was doing this because it was the correct thing to do, the moral thing to do.
With that, Zachariah and Raphael lost all patience they had. Both had lost all respect they had once had for their brother. They removed him from the ranks. He was no longer capable of carrying out the will of his Father. Other angels who were still within the ranks were told that Castiel had fallen, he was a monster, a follower of human ways and thoughts. The word spread fast that Castiel would never be allowed entry into Heaven again. Because of the now fallen angel’s disobedience, he was now hated by his kind. They sought to punish the brother who dared disobey and carry out his own plan. He had betrayed their Father, and this carried a hefty price.
Zachariah and Raphael did not stop them. Raphael, however had the first turn, and it had not been finished as of yet.The room was white, and it had been made that way for a very specific reason. The more Castiel saw that his blood splattered on the walls and floor, the more he would feel the need to give in to avoid more damage. He had refused to reveal Dean Winchester’s location. But if the fallen angel would not reveal it willingly, it would be forced out of him.
Castiel was whole again. No wounds littered his body, but he would not remain the same for long. It was the third time they had made him whole. He was simply too broken to continue, and they had to rebuild him to start the onslaught once again. Every session started the same. The fallen angel was forced onto his knees. He didn’t deserve the right to talk to angels face to face. He would look upward to them, and as a result, they looked down upon him.
“Must we do this yet another time, Castiel? I tire of your games.” Raphael said, as he walked a slow circle around his captive as an animal would his prey. He twirled a crowbar in his hand. If the once celestial being wanted so desperately to be human, he would feel as a human did when it came to pain. When he saw Castiel try to rise from his knees, to face him at a leveled stature he was disgusted and angry. He gripped the crowbar tight, swung back and hit his target, that being the back of his former brother’s neck hard.
Castiel crashed first to his knees and then to his hands as well. A nauseating feeling overtook him and he coughed violently as his human body fought to get rid of the blood that invaded his windpipe. He was human, he needed to breathe. His ribs ached from the work, as he coughed to the point of gagging as blood hit the floor with a sickening sound. He tried to breathe evenly only to find out his passageway for air was not clear. More blood hit the floor. He gagged to the point of where nothing came up. The feeling was sickening, degrading and it was painful.
His neck ached, and he felt severe pain. It was agonizing to look up, but Castiel did so as Raphael walked around to face him, not bothering to lower himself to his level. Tiring of holding his weight, Castiel pushed backwards, blood dripping from his mouth onto his beige trench coat. He remained on his knees, but sat on his heels, shoulders rising and falling from the effort of gathering oxygen and pumping it into his body.
“You really must wonder how pathetic you look, Castiel.” Raphael said. “I take pleasure in watching you bleed, hearing your screams of agony, your begs for mercy. You are an enemy of my Father and you will be treated thus.”
“There…is right and wrong…I am performing…what is right.” Castiel gasped. “It is what our Father would want.”
Something snapped inside of Raphael and he swung again, yelling with the effort of the power put into the blow. The metal bar hit Castiel in the ribs, and cracked them into pieces, the fragments painfully burying themselves into organs.
Castiel could not stop the scream that tore past his lips. The metal hit hard, and it destroyed the inside of his body, tore through muscle, burst though bone and wreaked havoc in the form of serious internal bleeding. He fell flat on his back from the blow, instinct forcing him onto his side as more blood was forced from his body. There came a point when he had no more strength to purge the blood from his airway. He laid on his side, barely conscious, trying desperately to get air into his lungs, only to have it forced back up with blood and fragments of bone.
He would not give in. He was doing this because he knew it is what his Father would have wanted. His Father was righteous, not anything like Raphael or Zachariah and one day, when He returned, this is the philosophy that would be set into motion. Until then he had to remain strong. Castiel wanted to pass out; he wanted his human body to collapse under the abuse with which it was being mutilated. Finding strength he didn’t know he had, Castiel pushed himself back onto his knees.
“How is it you do not simply give us what we want?” Raphael asked, as he picked up a thin dagger from the array of instruments to use as he saw fit. “You are a traitor, Castiel, no better than Lucifer himself.” Glaring at the form below him, Raphael pulled him against the wall, slamming and pinning him there with a knee to the angel’s chest.
The archangel smirked when his knee sunk in, signaling the fact that broken ribs had led to other interior damage.
Castiel struggled against the pressure building to no avail. It caused him agonizing pain and limited his intake of air. He tried to focus on breathing and not on the pain that stemmed from weight being applied to shattered bones, blood vessels and torn muscle. Despite the fear that settled into the pit of his stomach, he eyed Raphael with a fierce intensity. “You…will not…break me.”
Raphael almost laughed at Castiel’s pathetic statement. “You’re broken in so many different places; I wouldn’t even know where to begin naming them.” He traced the angel’s jaw line with the thin knife, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. The wound was deep enough to where blood kept dripping, oozing out, and crawled in maroon layers down Castiel’s neck. Without warning, Raphael delivered a kick to the angel’s ribs, feeling more bone snap and break under the fierce blow. He sneered coldly as the angel collapsed, clutching his stomach, shutting his eyes tight, tears of pure agony slipping through and mixing with blood. They finally hit the white floor as pink drops.
“I think you fail to recognize the seriousness of the situation, Castiel.” Raphael said sharply. “We need to find Dean Winchester because it is him that will stop Lucifer. Without Dean, the Lightbringer will continue to wreak havoc on the Earth, destroying our Father’s children. We cannot allow for this to happen.”
Castiel realized that Dean was the key to stopping Lucifer, but it was unjust at how they thought of him. They treated a human being like one of their own and expected him to follow at a moment’s notice. They were taking the Winchester’s free will and tearing it to shreds. It was not what his Father would have wanted. The angels could destroy Lucifer themselves; there was no need to bring humans into the fight. The only reason they seemed to be so determined in involving Dean Winchester was because prophecy called for it. It was not because he broke the first Seal. Breaking the first Seal does not automatically tether a human being to killing or imprisoning the first fallen angel.
“Your thoughts disgust me, you pathetic traitor.” Raphael snapped. “Prophecy is a very sacred item, and yet you dismiss it from your list of things to respect.” He pulled Castiel to his feet, feeling how limp the former angel felt in his grasp. “Lucifer is free, and if you do not answer to us, you will answer to him.”
For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Castiel felt fear strike him cold. They wouldn’t turn him over to Lucifer. It was unthinkable.
“If you do not intend to answer to us when we call upon your knowledge, then you are useless to us, and we will turn you over into the lustful hands of the enemy.” Raphael snapped. “Lucifer knows lust, Castiel. And once we turn you over to him, he will do with you as he pleases. We’ve kept an eye on him since he broken free from Hell. He’s lusted after the angels who have fallen from obedience, and he’s done onto them unspeakable things, all for his ecstasy. He used them for his own release.”
“I will not allow for myself to be used in such degrading ways.” Castiel spoke. His voice had long since lost its sharp edge, but still held meaning.
“You will not have a choice in the matter once he learns of your location and disobedience. And we will indeed turn you over without a moment’s hesitation.” Raphael answered. “He will defile you as he sees fit, and we will do nothing to stop his efforts, because you mean nothing to us as of this moment.”
***
The first thing Dean noticed when consciousness drifted back to him was pain. His head ached beyond anything he had ever felt before. He groaned and rolled onto his side as he tried to open his eyes. A bright light forced him to shut them instantly as the pain was driven up a level.
“Hey,” a garbled voice said from above him.
Dean tried to focus on the figure standing before him, thankfully blocking out the light streaming in from an unknown source. “Wha…who…”
“Dean, you okay?”
Dean was finally able to make his vision focus and he realized that the figure before him was Sam, his brother. “Sammy…what…”
“Take it easy, Dean.” He realized that the light streaming in from the window was causing his elder brother pain, and he promptly closed the curtains. Despite that fact that it was mid-November, the sun was still as bright as it would be in mid-summer. “Can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” Dean groaned. He opened his eyes to a dim room. The only light that streamed in was a slice of light slipping in through a gap in the curtains. Gathering the strength, he pushed himself up and leaned against the head board of the bed. He looked around, realizing he was in a different motel room than the one he had been in last. Sam was there, and so was Castiel. They were discussing sigils and spells to keep them hidden from angels and demons alike, but before they had the chance to implement them, Zachariah showed up.
“Sam…” Dean panicked, trying to rise to his feet only to he pushed back down by his brother. “Damn it, Sam…where’s Cas?!”
Sam sighed, wondering if this was the best time to share this information with Dean. “Dean uh…they…have Cas. He sent us away before they even had the chance of getting their hands on us.”
Dean felt another surge of panic flood through him. He stood, pushing his brother’s hands away, feeling dizzy when he took on his full height. “Sam…those monsters have Cas and God knows what the hell they’re doing to him! If he’s not dead or f***ing worse, in Hell!”
“Dean, you have to calm down…you hit your head, just take it easy for five minutes!” Sam protested.
“No, Sam, I mean…” Dean glanced at his brother, a heartbreaking look in the green depths of his eyes. “He’s done…and what he’s gone through…we can’t just forget about him. We’re gonna find him.”
